


Because You're You

by Dark_and_night



Category: The Boy (2016 Bell)
Genre: Discrimination, One Shot, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Other, request
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-19
Updated: 2019-11-19
Packaged: 2021-02-13 09:37:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21492208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dark_and_night/pseuds/Dark_and_night
Summary: Brahms is madly in love with his POC Reader s/o, and witnesses harassment for the first time. (Originally requested on tumblr.)
Relationships: Brahms Heelshire/Reader, Brahms Heelshire/You
Comments: 1
Kudos: 84





	Because You're You

Brahms loved your hands. He loved how warm they were, how he could touch them any time he wanted. He loved pressing against each of your fingertips when you were relaxing, or watching them hard at work as the two of you made the bed together. Brahms loved your eyes, because when he saw them it meant you were looking at him. He loved how dark they were, and how much love they held inside them. He loved your hair, he loved nuzzling his face into it as the two of you slept, breathing in your scent. He loved your lips, he loved the feeling of them against his, Brahms loved watching your lips move, because it meant that you were talking to him. He loved hearing your thoughts, picking your brain and learning from you. He loved your smile, because it made his heart melt. Brahms loved your skin, he loved tracing his fingers over it, and how sometimes it made you laugh if he touched a ticklish spot. He loved your warmth, and he loved your beautiful brown skin.  


In short, Brahms loved you in your entirety.  


He also loved how gentle you had been with him as he tried to transition into venturing out into the outside world. It had been a slow process, and his worst fear was that you would get tired of waiting for him to be ready to go on a real outing, but you never did. You were understanding, and supportive, everything he needed you to be.  


“I get you’re scared, but we can start out small, just on the outskirts of town. Probably minimal human interaction, and you can get used to being outside.” You had said to him.  


Brahms knew you wouldn’t be disappointed in him, but, he was still scared that he couldn’t be a real partner to you as long as he stayed in his own house. So, he decided to try going out, just on the outskirts of town, and just for half an hour, an hour at best. He wanted to be the best version of himself for you, but god, he was scared.  


When the day finally came that the two of you did make your way to the edge of town, Brahms held your hand so hard you feared it would break. With your free hand, you pet his arm, trying to soothe him.  


“Just thirty minutes.” You cooed, trying not to flinch at his death grip on your hand. “We probably won’t even meet anyone, it’s seven at night, and we’re in England, so, everyone’s probably asleep.”  


Brahms nodded slightly, his heart in his chest. “It’s so open.”  


You looked around, realizing that he had barely even been outside of the house itself in twenty years. Brahms wasn’t even used to seeing the open sky.  


With that sad realization dawning on you, you gently squeezed his arm, trying to get his attention.  


Brahms looked at you, his eyes gleaming with fearful tears behind the mask. His chest was heaving, so scared that even his breathing was labored.  


“I’m sorry Brahmsy.” You mumbled, resting your free hand on the cheek on his mask, pulling his forehead to yours, your other hand still being used as a stress ball. “This was too much, we should have just stayed in the backyard. We can go home now, okay Brahms?”  


Brahms’s breath continued to sound labored, his eyes looking around feverishly. Even though his mask was still on, fear was somehow still evident on his face.  


“Brahms.” You said firmly, finally getting his attention.  


He looked at you, a tear falling from his eye. “I’m sorry, I can’t…”  


“Stop.” You interrupted, stepping closer to him. “Just focus on me until you calm down, okay? I’ll call the cab and we can go home right now.”  


Brahms nodded, his forehead still pressed against yours. With your free hand you called the cab, telling the driver where to pick the both of you up. Brahms never took his eyes off of you, watching how your eyes glinted with your newfound mission of getting the both of you home. Admiring how your lips moved as you spoke into your cell phone. Watching how the streetlight and moon reflected off of your dark skin. As he continued to admire you, the calmer he became.  


You hung up the phone, smiling reassuringly at Brahms. “We’ll be home soon, okay? You did great your first time out!” You encouraged him, genuinely proud of how far he was willing to travel from home.  


“You’re beautiful.” Brahms mumbled, absorbed in his admiration of you.  


You felt your face heat up, and you laughed softly. “How can you flirt even when you’re breaking my hand?”  


“S-sorry!” Brahms pulled back, holding both of his hands to his chest awkwardly. “I didn’t mean to!”  


You laughed, reaching up and petting his hair softly. “I know you’re scared, it’s okay. The cab is only a few minutes away.”  


Brahms fidgeted, looking around. “I’m… can I please hide? Until the cab gets here?”  


You nodded slightly. “Yes, you can hide, Brahmsy, I’ll wave you down when the cab comes, don’t you worry about a thing.”  


Brahms nodded and quickly ran into some nearby evergreens, trying to find the smallest possible space to occupy until the taxi arrived. He nestled himself near the trunk of the tree, pretending he was back in his house. He closed his eyes, pretending that the sounds of nature were the sounds of his fireplace, pretending that he was at home, in bed, with you, exactly where he wanted to be.  


The entire illusion melted away when he heard someone yell something at you.  


Brahms might have been sheltered, but he knew what was being yelled at you. He knew it wasn’t respectful. And he knew that it was insulting one of his favorite things about you, insulting a part of you that was important and wonderful and beautiful.  


And suddenly he wasn’t scared anymore.  


Brahms was fucking furious.  


He slipped out of the evergreens, years of sneaking in the walls working in his favor to make his steps entirely silent. He crept forward, observing the scene that was laid out in front of him.  


There you were. Wonderful, beautiful, perfect you, and some no-named nobody who had nothing to offer the world but hatred. Your arms were crossed, your brow furrowed, but you were trying to ignore the nobody. You were trying to not make a scene, not for yourself, but because you didn’t want any attention to be directed at Brahms. And Brahms knew it.  


The one who had yelled was standing a little far away, far enough where you couldn’t reach him, far enough where he couldn’t be accused of anything. A safe range away. A coward’s distance.  


Well, that poor bastard didn’t know that Brahms was there.  


Brahms crept to the edge of the brush were the man stood, the man still shouting insults. Brahms slipped out of the bushes, creeping up behind the man.  


Your eyes widened when you spotted Brahms wrapping his arms around the man’s neck.  


“Brahms, no!” You yelled as Brahms started strangling your harasser.  


Nothing in the world, not even your voice-which Brahms loved more than anything-could stop Brahms from his task, which was to eradicate this man who had shouted something so disgusting at you.  


“No!” You yelled again, running up to Brahms and jumping on his back, pulling his hands away. What finally snapped Brahms out of his bloodlust was the sound of you crying.  


“Brahms!” You begged, and finally, Brahms’s grip loosened on the man, and the man fell to the ground, gasping and clutching at his neck, half-passed out.  


Brahms turned to you, his eyes glazed over in rage. “He disrespected you.” He mumbled.  


“I understand, I’m just as mad as you are, but we can’t just go around killing people like him!” You cupped his face, his porcelain mask cold on your hands. You could tell he was still livid, and you realized this must have been the fist time Brahms had been faced with discrimination. “Let’s go home, Brahms. Okay? Let’s go home.”  


Brahms looked back down at the man, who was coming to enough to scramble away on his hands and knees, coughing for air. Brahms still had fury in his eyes, the need for blood racing through him. You understood why he felt the way he did, and you didn’t know how to talk him out of what he was feeling.  


Luckily, the cab pulled up before Brahms could focus on the fact that your harasser was still breathing.  


“The cab is here!” You pulled him towards the yellow car, never in your life more grateful to see a means of transportation arrive on time. “We can go home!”  


Brahms’s eyes glistened, life returning to them. “We can?”  


“Yes!” You insisted, taking his hand and walking to the cab. “Let’s go home!”  


Brahms followed you obediently, the prospect of going home finally distracting him from his previous mission to kill the man he was strangling literally a minute earlier.  


When the two of you were safely in the cab, you crawled on Brahms’s lap, resting your head on his chest. The two of you rode in silence, until you were safely back at home.  


The both of you were crawling into bed before one of you finally spoke up.  


“I did something wrong, didn’t I?” Brahms asked once he had finally calmed down.  


You shook your head, words evading you. Your heart hurt from what was said to you by that man, but Brahms and his unrepentant defense of you made you feel a bit better.  


“Let’s just sleep for now.” You mumbled, curling into Brahms’s chest.  


Brahms held you close, enjoying your scent, running his hands over your skin, and smiling whenever he touched a ticklish spot that made you laugh. Brahms admired you in your entirety as the both of you drifted off to sleep, Brahms promising himself that he would do anything to keep you safe and happy for as long as he lived. No matter what he had to do, he would keep you safe.  


He promised himself as he buried his face in your hair, admiring you as you drifted off to sleep.


End file.
